The Baltimore County union. [volume] (Towsontown, Md.) 1865-1909, 1887-12-24
The COnvict's Christmas Eve.
By WILL CARLETON.

By WILL CARLETON.
| The term was done; my penalty was past
| I saw the outside of the walls at last
When left that stone punishment of sin,
| Twas most as hard as when first went in.
It seemed at once as though the swift-voiced air
| Told slanderous tales about me everywhere;
| As if the ground itself was shrinking back
For fear 'twould get the Gains mark of my tracl
Women would edge away, with shrewd she-guesse
| AS if my very glance would spoil their dresses;
| Men looked me over with close, careless gaze,
And understood my downcast, jail-bred ways;
Ny hands were so grim-hardened and defiled,
wouldn't have had the cheek to pet a child;
If had spoken to dog that day,
| He would have tipped his nose and walked away
And so I wandered in Jail of doubt,
Whence neither heaven nor earth would let me oui
| The world itself seemed to me every bit
| As hard prison as the one I'd quit.
| If you are made of anything but dirt,
| If you've soul that other souls can hurt,
| Turn to the right henceforth, whoever passes;
It's death to drop among the lawless classes!
Men lose, who lose the friendship of the law,
| A blessing from each breath of air they draw;
They know the advantage Of . good square face,
When theirs has been disfgured by disgrace.
So trudged round appropriately slow
For one with no particular place to GO.
The houses scowled and stared as if to say,
"You jail-bird, we are honest walk awayw
The factory seemed to scream when came near,
"Stand back unsentenced men are working here !
And virtue had tn appearance all the time
Of trying hard to push me back to crime.
1t struck me strange, that stormy, snow-bleachei
day,
To watch the different people on the way,
All carrying bundles, of all sorts of sizes,
As carefully as gold and silver prizes.
Well dressed or poor, could not understand
Why each one hugged bundle in his hand.
| asked an old policeman what it meant.
He looked me over with eyes shrewdly bent,
While muttering in a voice that fairly froze,
"It's cause to-morrow's Christmas, suppose"
And then the fact came crashing over me,
How horribly alone man can be
don't pretend what tortures yet may wait
For souls that have not run their reckonings
straight;
1t isn't for mortal ignorance to say
What kind fnight may follow any day;
There may be pain for sin some time found out
That sin on earth knows nothing yet about;
But don't think there's any harbor known
Worse for wrecked soul than to be alone.
Alone!-there maybe never has occurred
word whose gloom is gloomier than that word
You who can brighten up your Christmas joys
VIII aIl auecClOnS 3 small DuL mighty toys,
Who fancy that your gifts of love be rash,
And presents are not worth their price in cash,
Thank God, with love and thrift no more at war,
That you've some one to spend your money for
A dollar plays very dingy part,
Till magnetized by some ones grateful heart.
So evening saw me struggling up and down
Within the gayly lighted, desolate town,
A hungry, sad heart-h hermit all the while,
My rough face begging for friendly smile.
Folks talked with folks in new-made warmth and
glee,
But no one had word or look for me;
Love flowed like water, but it could not make
The world forgive me for my one mistake.
An open church some look of welcome wore
1 crept in soft, and sat down near the door.
I'd never seen 'mongst my unhappy race
So many happy children in one place;
never knew how much hymn could bring
From Heaven, until I heard those children sing;
never saw such sweet breathed gales of glee
As swept around that fruitful Christmas tree.
You who have tripped through childhood's merry
days
With passionate love protecting all your ways,
Who did not see Christmas-time go by
Without some present for your sparkling eye,
Thank God, whose goodness gave such joy its birth
And scattered heaven-seeds in the dust of earth
In stone-paved ground my thnrny s-ii---. Fl. e
never had Christnn a sa-~---
And so / sat and saw them, and confess
Felt all tn unhappier for their happiness;
And when man gets into such state,
He's very proud-or very desolate.
Just then a cry of "Fire~ amongst us came;
The pretty Christmas tree was all afame
And one sweet child there in our startled gaze
Was screaming, with her white clothes all ablaze
The crowd seemed crazy like, both old and young,
And very swift of speech, though slow of tongue.
But one knew what to do, and not to say,
And he convict, just let loose that day.
I fought like one who deals in deadly strife;
I wrapped my life around that child's sweet life;
I choked the flames that choked her, with rich
cloaks,
stopn from some good but very frightened folks; /;
I gave the dear girl to her parents sight,
Unharmed by anything excepting fright;
I tore the blazing branches from the tree
And all was safe, and no one hurt but me.
That night, of which asked for sleep in vain
That night, that tossed me round on prongs PAIN
through,
Was still the happiest that ever knew.
felt that at last had earned place
Among my race, by suffering for my race;
felt the glorious facts wouldn't let me miss
A mothers thanks-perhaps child's sweet kiss !;
That mans warm gratitude would find plan
To lift me up, and help me be man.
Next day they brought letter to my bed.
opened it with tingIing nerves and read:
"You have upon my kindness certain claims
For rescuing my young child from the flames;
Such deeds deserve hand unstained by crime;
trust you will reform while yet there's time.
The blackest sinner may find mercy still.
Enclosed please find thousand dollar bill.l
a.. Al &c 6a m
Don't follow me for any more. Good-by."
scorched the dirty rag till it was black;
Enclosed it in rag and sent it back.
That very night cracked tradesman's door,
Stole with my blistered hands ten thousand more,
Which next day took special pains to send
To my good, distant, wealthy, high-toned friend,
And wrote upon it in steady hand,
In words hoped he wouldn't misunderstood:
"Money is cheap, as have shown you here,
But gratitude and sympathy are dear.
These rags are stolen-have been-may often be
I trust the one wasn't that you sent to me.
Hoping your pride and you are reconciled-
From the black, sinful rescuer of your child"
crept to court-a crushed, triumphant worm
Confessed the theft, and took another term.
MY life closed, and began; and am back
Among the rogues that walk the broad-gaugsd
track.
I toll mid every sort of sin that's known;
I walk rough roads-but do not walk Alone.
-Harper's Magazine for December.
Christmas.
When Instituted and How Honored-
It's Carols and Traditions.
Few ceremonies of modern times
have so remote an original as the keep
ing of Christmas. In many instances
it has parted wide from the object oi
its establishment, but in all instances